


On The Rebound

by Tempesta_Tricolor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, LATER, M/M, Male Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Rivalry, Slow Build, Team Bonding, for sure, temporary though, they don't know yet, work with me okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tempesta_Tricolor/pseuds/Tempesta_Tricolor
Summary: The league is corrupt and heir team is a mess. How could they possibly be worried about love at a time like this?The Paladins face challenges at every turn in their first season being a team.





	1. A Draft Night Gamble

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Voltron AU that I've been thinking about for a long long time. Hopefully my writing improves as I progress with this story.

Flashing lights at every turn and deafening applause was to be expected, but that doesn't mean either of them were fully prepared for it. Well, between the two of them, Lance was the most at home, he practically fed off of the energy of the arena the event was being held in. Hunk on the other hand was quite nauseous at the entire ordeal, and had his mother sitting near him on standby, bin at the ready. While neither of them felt one hundred percent, they sure looked it, having been dressed in custom tailored outfits. Lance's ensemble featured ocean blue highlights over a mostly black suit featuring blue lion heads hidden in the jacket while Hunk stuck to a yellow blazer and matching tie over white pants, the bright colors perfectly accenting his skin. They sat together, and with their families, in not-so-quiet anticipation, awaiting the ceremony to begin. 

"C'mon Hunk, this is what we've been waiting for for a _long_ time! Why are you so nervous? Besides, we've been getting this kind of attention since high school!"

Lance couldn't sound any more enthusiastic if he tried. This _had_ been his dream after all, Hunk just wanted to be an aerospace engineer. "That doesn't mean I'm anymore used to it now than I was then bud. And there's a major difference with this."

"And what would that be my man?"

"This isn't just a game. It's draft night. _NBA_ draft night. You know, where we get selected by professional teams, most likely _different_ teams. We may not play together again Lance." 

That seemed to damper Lance's mood just a little, noted by the small crease in his forehead that only existed for a half second before he defaulted to a smirk. "What, you gonna miss me big guy?" 

Before Hunk could respond, the commissioner to the stage, marking the official start of the draft. Both parties tensed up immediately, looking at one another in disbelief. Everyone at their table sat in utter silence in the small period of time they'd had to for the first team to make their decision. Hunk glances over to a nervous Lance whom he knows is wishing to be the number one pick. He wasn't.

"With the first pick of 2065 NBA draft, the Marmora City Blades select.... six foot five guard Keith Kogane of Garrison University." And with that, the commissioner returns backstage to await the next pick. Lance was livid. "How?! He didn't even play this season! What, is he gonna one-up me in everything?!" he said, genuinely confused. Hunk was also at a loss for words, resorting to patting Lance on the back along with the rest of his family. "Hey, you're at least the second pick, right?" Hunk asked, uplifting tone evident.

"Yeah I guess," Lance said with a pout. Turns out he wasn't the second pick either, nor was he the third. Had his draft stock really fallen that far? He for sure had the best shot percentage of his class. He'd tuned out everything around him, deep in thought of where he'd messed up. There was no way he had, he lead his division in scoring the entire college season. 

"...six foot nine forward Lance McClain of Garrison University!" 

Wait a minute, what? Now out of his thoughts, he was very confused. Looking over at Hunk he mouthed 'what happened?'. Shaking his head, Hunk points towards the stage and says, "You got picked, dude."  _Oh._   That's all he had to hear as he shot up out of his seat, hugging his parents and the few siblings that could attend as well as Hunk, smiling all the way to the stage. He only realized after shaking the commissioner's hand that he had no idea who drafted him.

"So Mr. McClain, how's it feel to be an Arus City Paladin?" asked a young woman in a floral pattern shirt. Lance looked at the camera, smiling of course, before looking back at the woman that questioned him. "The what city who now?"

 

~ _Several picks later~_

 

Hunk now sat with a slightly confused Lance, awaiting his turn to drafted. If he were to be honest with himself, he doesn't even expect to chosen top twenty. "The waiting isn't so bad," he says to appease his anxious best friend. The look he's given says that Lance doesn't buy it. 

"Hunk, it's been nearly thirty minutes since I was picked and we're only on number ten. There's no one you don't consider this bad." He could only shrug in response, not caring to prove Lance wrong as he usually would. 

"And with the tenth pick of the 2065 NBA draft.. the Arus City Paladins select seven foot two center Hunk Garrett of Garrison University!" 

There was a moments pause before Lance erupted into applause, possibly louder than everyone else in the building. "Well I guess having you as a teammate again is alright," Hunk says in mock disappointment as he makes his way to the stage. As he made his way back to their table, we noticed everyone was already standing. 

"Uh, where are we going? Draft's not over yet." 

"We're getting a celebratory meal! We'll watch the rest of the draft at the restaurant."

 

~At the restaurant~

 

Lance nearly spits his drink out in his stupor, staring at the screen in disbelief. There, on the television before him is the remainder of the draft, now on the second round. That isn't what got his attention. What incited his reaction was the breaking news segment which read ' _G Keith Kogane traded to ACP or 2066 first round pick and 2065 late second round pick_ '. Wonderful. 

"Who would even _accept_ that trade?!" he blurts out, gaining the attention of everyone else. Hunk raises his brow, oblivious to what had just transpired. 

"What are you talking about?"

"The Blades traded _Keith_ to the Paladins. For a first round pick next year! Oh, and a second rounder for this year. Whatever, that's really dumb."

"So by emphasizing Keith are you admitting he's a great player or are you just that surprised?" Hunk asks with a smirk. Lance's face rearranges itself into a frown stating, "I won't give you the satisfaction of answering that."

Everyone at the table laughed at their little discussion, clearly amused by how upset Lance seemed to be at this news. The boy only huffed and crossed his arms, pouting like he was a child. A rather tall child, but a child nonetheless. Oh boy what a night its been. Hunk on the other hand, was now watching the draft, something, well.. someone, having caught his eye. "Is that... is that Pidge?" 

As if the new announcer had somehow heard him, he announces the young man in question. "With the fifty-ninth pick of the 2065 draft, the Arus City Paladins select... five foot ten guard Pidge Gunderson of Garrison U."

Both Lance and Hunk stare at one another in awe. Of all the players on their team, Pidge Gunderson had to be the least likely to be even _want_ to be drafted, given how he treated them. Well, this "Arus City" sure has some fire power now.


	2. We're Talking About Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has it's first practice, and nothing goes as expected. But what can you do? Practice. That's what.

 

"So Keith, how's it feel to be the second best player on the team?" Lance asks, smirking at the shorter player. In a way he was right, Keith _is_ the second best player on the team, but that doesn't make Lance the first. Keith could only narrow his eyes before his face fell into complete confusion.

 "Uhh.. Who're you again? Lawrence?"

 Lance's jaw would have hit the floor if it fell any faster. " _What?!_ There's no way you don't know who I am! I was a highschool phenom _and_ a top prospect in the same draft as you! We even went to the same high school you ass!"

Keith considered what Lance had said, honestly trying to remember him. "Oh yeah. You were that overzealous sophomore that transfered halfway through the school year. I don't remember you being popular though," Keith states. "Or very talented for that matter." 

Okay he had a point. Lance hadn't gained any real attention until after Keith had graduated, and neither had Hunk. "Well that's because all eyes were on you! I even won us the state championship after _you_ missed the game winning shot!" Lance spat, coupled with a 'I grabbed the rebound!' from a distant eavesdropping Hunk. Seriously, the nerve of this guy. Keith couldn't possibly not remember them. "It's not fair you got all the attention. We carried you in your senior year!"

"Well it seems you got your much needed attention after I'd graduated, so what's the big deal? I didn't want that attention anyway."

'Well this first practice is gonna be fun' Hunk thought as he looks on at Lance and Keith's little curffufle. The whole argument seems onesided if he were being completely honest. He and Lance had happened to arrive early, but not quite as early as Keith apparently. That was when Lance had the great idea to strike up conversation with Keith to "revive their rivalry" or something. He sighs as he goes to pick up a ball and work on his shot, one of his weaknesses, catching a glimpse at more bodies entering the practice facility.

Soon after, players neither of them had ever even heard of, as well as what seemed to be staff, followed by a man in blue and white business attire and a darker skinned woman with hair like platinum. She caught Lance's eye apparently, because he'd completely haulted his 'conversation' with Keith to stare in awe. 

Every player, save the loverboy, begins to shoot around freely before team practice formally begins, which is not at all redundant. Nope, not at all. During this time, Lance uses the grace period as an opportune moment to introduce himself to the gorgeous woman before him. Taking her hand after approaching her rather suddenly, he brushes his lips over the back of her hand before pronoucning, "the name's Lance," with his signature smirk.

"Yes.. I know very well who you are Mr.McClain. I _d_ _id_ pick you personally, as well as everyone else this past draft. You all posses certain.. Traits similar to the team my father played alongside long ago; When this team was the Altea Lions," the woman said, accent being made apparent immediately, "oh, and please call me Miss Allura."

"I think I'll just call you princess, cause girl you look like royalty."

Hunk only groans at his best friend's unprofessional flirting while Keith bites back the urge to reprimand Lance. Allura, on the hand, looks completely nonplussed, clearly unsure how to respond to these advances. Before any of them could speak, however, the orange haired man with the fantastic moustache - my god what a marvelous 'stache - reminded everyone of his presence. "Yes, wonderful. Now that everyone's paying attention I'd like to announce that we'll be running a scrimmage to gauge possible lineups, though Miss Allura already has one in mind," he says ecstatically, accent even more pronounced than Allura's.

"Yes, thank you Coran. Every rookie will be in the starting lineup. Your dynamic styles of play will complement each other very well, a perfectly synergized team if you will."

Lance visibly perks up at the news, pumping his fists in triumph as if he'd actually had to compete for a starting spot. Hunk looked as nervous as he felt, not quite believing himself to be ready to start. Keith didn't seem to care either way seeing as he didn't so much as bat an eye. Pidge, who nonine even realized was there, made a face of bewilderment, seeing as his stature didn't quite line up with any of the others, being five foot ten and all compared to these actual giants. Point guards are usually the shortest, yeah, but the average height is like six foot three. Even the one guy they already have is considerably taller than him.

Hunk stops being nervous just long enough to inquire. "Hey, you got four of us. Players that is. You've got a point guard, shooting guard, a forward and a center. Who's our fifth guy?"

"Excellent quesiton number one! (What?!) You see, we've acquired a talent over the last season. He didn't play that season due to unfortanate circumstances, but I can assure you that he's a-okay now and can play to his fullest ability" Coran says, evidently joyous at the currunt situation.

"Who?!" Everyone seems to ask simultaneously, including the players that were already there. "Oh, why none other tha-."

"Takashi Shirogane." He says as he enters, cutting Coran off in the process.

Keith actually has a reaction for the first time today that isn't a scowl. "S-shiro?! How- no. Why?" He can't quite seem to comprehend the older man's presence. "Where have you been? I decommitted from the draft a year ago because you disappeared!"

Lance, still taken aback by the fact that his idol is now standing before him, looked on with Hunk in disbelief. Shiro had disappeared, along with Matthew and Samuel Holt, after a win over the New Galra City Robeasts. Shiro was the only one of the three to not resurface eventually over the past year. Matt being placed on a separate team on the far side of the country and Sam losing his job as general manager.

Shiro seemed to have it the worst as he now sported a prosthetic arm. A highly advanced robot prosthetic, but a prosthetic nonetheless. He looked Keith in the eyes, brows drawn together as he struggled to answer the young man's question, glancing over everyone else in the vicinity, eyes lingering over Pidge just a tad longer than anykne else in.. is that recognition? Pidge broke eye contact first, quickly looking away, pretending to be uninterested.

"Look Keith... We'll talk about it later. Now's not the time. I will tell you everything, but on our own time."

"Shiro's right, we haven't got the time for such personal conversations in practice _._ Now, as Coran mentioned, we'll be holding a scrimmage to gauge your abilities to function as a unit. Starters in white, bench in black." Allura chimes in.

Oh boy was that a rough game. No, that's an understatement. It was a tragedy. A massacre. There was absolutely zero chemistry. Not a single ounce. Keith and Lance repeatedly argued over who would take what shot while Hunk would try to reason with them. Pidge still seemed distant and only spoke when he would pass the ball. Shiro was their saving grace, just barely keeping them in the game, and that's only because it was a scrimmage.

"That was... dreadful. We do have time though. We'll be working on team building exercises for the rest of the summer, you desperately need it. Otherwise, practice is over, expect a real practice on Thursday, your fundamentals need work." And with that, Allura was gone followed by Coran.

"Listen guys, we've gotten tighten up out there. While the individual play was excellent, there was no team play. Well, Lance and Hunk seem to have a real dynamic there, but as a whole we're out of sync." Shiro says, clearly disappointed by their performance. "Keith, you and I can discuss my disappearance over a meal while we catch up. That alright with you?"

"Fine by me Shiro."

"Oh no! Nuh uh, I've got a score to settle with mullet here!" Lance interrupts. Pidge and Hunk roll their eyes in unison. Shiro quirks an eyebrow. "How about a one on one? First to twenty one?" He suggests.

Lance agrees without a second thought as Keith only shrugs. This'll be interesting. No, it'll be _entertaining_.

"Alrighty Keith, I make this shot, I start with the ball. I miss it, you start with the ball. Got it?"

"Whatever."

Lance pulls up from a foot outside the three-point line and misses his shot (it was really just an unlucky spin but whatever). He retrives the ball and begrudgingly passes the ball to Keith who is currently standing behind the three-point line.

"Check." He passes the ball back to Lance who subsequently bounces it back as the latter lowers his stance in order to defend. It was a wasted effort. Keith blows by him with little effort, finishing with an unnecessarily flashy layup. Their onlookers surpressed laughter as Lance frowned, looking to Hunk for comfort. His friend could only shrug in mock pity.

"Alright. If that's how it's gonna be Keith, I'll pull out all the stops. Well, some of them at least."

"Be my guest," Keith says, smirking just slightly.

Lance's offensive display was much more methodical. He couldn't just blow by Keith. He's fast but he isn't _that_ fast. Instead he relies on his crafty ball handling, crossing over and going behind the back until Keith stumbles just a little. Instead of seizing this opportunity, however, hebwaits for Keith to regain his footing only to have him fall victim to a shamgod crossover. _Now_ he cuts to the basket, metaphorically putting the icing on the cake with an impressive windmill dunk.

He looks back at Keith, a smug grin tight on his lips and the sound of his fellow teammates going bonkers in the background, save the unimpressed Pidge and sighing Shiro and Hunk. _'Oh shit'_ is all he can think when he and Keith make eye contact. "Why'd I agree to this".

Keith looks nothing short of feral. Seems Lance just awakened a sleeping giant.

The remainder of the one on one is pure offense, neither competitor capable of defending the other. Sweat poured off of them by the gallon They'd been breaking eachother's ankles since Lance's first possession, which is obviously not good for them. In the end, the game is decided by a missed shot and a goaltend by Lance, but he couldn't help but smile from ear to ear, flexing his defined muscles and proclaiming it to be a clean block.

"Okay okay, I lost. But that was fun. Invigorating even. You're not too bad mul- Keith. How about a redo? Truce." Lance said, reaching out to shake Keith's (sweaty) hand.

"Yeah.. truce," Keith says, taking Lance's hand in his.

"Alright, now that you're both done showing off and channeling legends from before our time... can we go grab a bite to eat?" Hunk pleads, very much done with the both of them. Then again he could probably have played much better defense than both of them combined. Hunk's pretty spry for a big guy. "Hey, just cause you're the second coming of Shaq himself doesn't mean you can gain wait like he did too." Lance quips.

"That man was a national treasure," Hunk chuckles, already out of his practice uniform by the time the match ended. Pidge, who is also no longer in uniform, when did that happen, waited nearby. "Okay okay we'll go shower and be right back. Don't leave before we're done though!" Lance and Keith both bolted off to the showers, somehow still full of energy.

"Those two really got worked up huh," Hunk says, his joyous attitude radiating like the very sun in the sky. Before he could receive a reply, his attention is drawn to a particular training staff member. Okay, being honest, Pidge _did_ respond, Hunk was jist too encaptured to notice. The perpetrator in question was a tall, well-built woman about as dark as he was. She was easily over six and half feet tall, and those arms- no those _eyes_. Were they... were they yellow? Yes, in fact they were. It was only when yellow met brown that Hunk noticed he was staring.

The woman broke eye contact first, hastily gathering loose basketballs and retreating from the gym. Hunk, equally as flustered, turns his attention to his shorter - much shorter - teammate who seems rather smug. "Gee, what was that Hunk? Space out a little there?" Pidge says. He clearly found this humourous. 

"I-I, you see I was just.. pondering how our team will fair over the season?" Hunk just barely managed that. Changing the subject in t-minus 3, 2 , 1. "Say Pidge, what made you declare to the draft? I thought you wanted to graduate. And, for the record, I didn't think you had it in you."

Pidge considers his questiom for all of a second. "Oh, I actually graduated early. That was my final year." 

"What?! No wonder you're such a good point guard, you're freakishly smart. Wait, why didn't you ever start?"

To this Pidge only shrugs. "Something about too much raw talent on the court at the same time." 

Hunk smiles softly. The Garrison trio, as they were called, is united once more. Which is strange, considering the three of them were never once on the court at the same time. And though he would never admit it, Lance had missed Pidge, and was very excited to have him joining the team.

Well, they'll make a good team. Yeah, count on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing on the road ar 4 a.m is fun. Yes so very fun.


	3. Fine Tuning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance takes it upon himself to practice alone before an old friend appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something I wrote on a roadtrip half-conscious.

If there's one thing you should know about Lance, it's that he's a hard worker. Sure he's a goofball. A horrid flirt. But alll that matters is that he tries hardest. He gives his all to his passion. However, no matter how hard he works, however much validation he receives, he just can't establish his place on the team. He isn't the most spectacular passer, nor is he a rebound machine. He's not even extremely athletic, despite his "mad hops". No, every niche was filled. Every hole plugged.

 So naturally, he tries to be a jack of all trades. Not great at anything? Whatever, be good at many things. At least he would have been before he knew Shiro was joining them. The man was beyond jack of all trades, literally great at everything. Lance just feels... uneeded. Like he was completely unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. So there he is. Alone. In the gym, shooting a basketball. Did I mention he was alone? Today isn't a scheduled practice, so no one would be coming.

 The _swish_ of every made basket was as loud as a rowdy crowd to him. The sweat pouring from his head beginning to pool under him. He'd been at this for a long time now, almost rhythmic. The same dribbles over and over. The same shots in the same spots. Even the same dunks. Lance was straining himself, and he knew it, but complaining about it wouldn't get him anywhere.

 That's why when he hears the sudden bounce of a ball besides his own he all but jumps out of his skin. He looks back to identify his wouldbe murderer via shock. "Wha- Pidge? What're you doing here?"

"Wow Lance, can I not want to practice by myself. Y'know, like you're doing right now?"

Lance's face reddens as he quickly turns to jack up another shot. "Okay, but seriously. What's the sitch?" He could always tell when something was up with his friends, though he wasn't entirely sure he and Pidge were friends. Not anymore at leasg.

 "You haven't spoken to me since you declared for the draft."

 Ah shit, he knew where this was going, and it wouldn't be good. "Look, I.. I didn't think I'd ever see you again, so I was gonna cut ties. I didn't necessarily want to, but I kinda figured we'd drift apart anyway. Didn't know you even declared for the draft yourself," he says, rubbing the back of his head.

 Pidge was very much hurt by his words, but she did little to show it. They'd known eachother since middle school, ever since she started this masqerade as a guy, which hardly worked to begin with. A masquerade she wants to be rid of. "Lance, I can't believe this. We've known eachother for years! How many spectacular leaps of logic did it take you to reach that conclusion? And don't go trying to blame anyone else either." Pidge has a point. He doesn't have any reason for what he'd decided.

 He sighs, the weight of guilt bearing down on his shoulders. "Pidg- no. Katie, you didn't deserve that. You, Hunk and I were tighter than bark on a tree. I didn't want to lose that." Another shot, this one goes careening to the right of the goal. "I didn't like you being in our shadow, being forced to come off the bench. It wasn't fair to you. I thought the sooner I exited your life the better. So I did just that. I took it upon myself like the idiot I am." He finally looks at her, eyes full of regret.

 She looks at him now, in stunned silence. "Katie huh. Haven't heard that one in awhile. Not since dad lost his voice in the accident." Lance doesn't miss the way her eyes flick down for a moment. "Lance, you were my best friend beside Hunk. You even helped me disguise myself as a guy to play basketball with you! As idiotic as that was, the fact that people still can't tell is absurd," she says, chuckling at her own statement. Well, she doesn't really look like a guy no matter how you twist it. At best she looks like a really feminine guy, but that's really pushing it. Blame puberty.

 Not like the league would kick her out or anything, what with the inclusion of exceptional women into the NBA and all. There was no real reason to keep up the facade. "So, why do you still go by Pidge Gunderson and not Katie Holt? Ya know, that sweet little nerd I met in sixth grade. You really don't have to, hasn't been necessary since high school really."

 She smiles for the first time since entering the facility, the nickname reminding her of more innocent times. Then, just as quickly as it had come, her smile fades into frown. "The Holt name isn't clear. I can't.. I can't be Katie Holt without fear I'll end up like my Matt or my dad. Shit, Shiro lost his arm for just being a family friend."

 That was news to Lance, and he didn't like it. 'That's how he lost his arm' he thjnks to himself. "Can we change the subject?" Pidge asks, almost whispering, snapping Lance from his own thoughts. Quick, something else. Anything else. "You wanna ditch this place and play video games? You know..for old times sake?" Lance asks. They hadn't actually hung out since high school.

 "Hell yes." She smiles that wonderful smile again. Oh how he'd missed it. "Oh, before I forget. Why on earth were you actually here by yourself Lance?"

 He tensed under her scrutiny. There was no way he'd tell her why he was there. What his mindset was. "Oh, I was just getting some shots in. Don't wanna get rusty before the start of the season, right?" Pidge's quirked brow and narrowed eyes did little to appease Lance and his lie. She didn't buy it, but for his sake she didn't press the matter. "Sure," is all she says.

 "But, since I _am_ here, I could practice with you, then we could go play some Killbot Phantasm. Could totally help with your subpar passing."

 "What?! I'll have you know my passes are accurate!" And he was right, they were accurate. They just weren't precise enough for his ridiculously flamboyant flair.

 "Alright "Tailor', you need help threading the needle," Pidge says, smirk creeping across her face.

 Lance smiles at the self proclaimed nickname, remembering just how much fun they used to have. 'Guess we'll have fun now too' he supposed.


	4. Flagrant One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro finally have that talk.

"So what  _really_ happened to you Shiro?" Keith asked, infuriated that Shiro only just now resurfaced as if he'd never been missing in the first place. One would think that the news would at least have reported that the star had returned to the sport, or at least that he'd recovered enough to do so.

"Keith. You already know what happened. The Uber I'd ordered was working for Galra and he'd crashed on purpose. Now can you try and calm down, if not for my sake for your own?" Shiro answered, not entirely sure why he'd been sabotaged to begin with. Either way, it earned him a prosthetic worthy of Cyborg himself. 

Keith, clearly exasperated, only sighs into hands. "Yeah, I know that. But _why_? Do.. do you know something, or were they just trying to weaken their competition?"

"I don't know, and I don't think I'll ever know really. That doesn't matter now, what does matter is that I'm here, I'm fine, and I won't be leaving you again any time soon." Shiro's words make Keith's heart skip a beat as he quickly takes a sip of water he'd forgone long ago out of anger. He could never stay mad for long in Shiro's presence, the man's gaze alone was enough to sooth Keith's nerves. Whatever, he'll drop the subject. For now, that is.

"So how was your recovery? Secret therapy must've worked wonders." 

"Well now that you mention it, it wasn't any harder than normal training. I quite liked it really." Shiro answers, taking a sip of his still-hot coffee. He was a tired man, after all. He'd been more tired than ever before after he'd been healthy enough to walk again, stress and paranoia being the primary cause. Keith looks at Shiro with an almost smug grin.  _Almost._  "You telling me you've gone soft already?"

Shiro smirks back. "You wanna find out? I'm not doing anything else today, maybe I can show you just how _soft_ I've become." His words have the desired effect on the seldom-flustered Keith, as said mullet sporting man's face flushes a deep crimson. 

"You did not just say that."

"I did. Offer's still on the table." Shiro says, smiling. 'God could he be any more beautiful?' Keith thinks. Of course he can't, Shiro is perfection.

"Alright I'll bite." he hums, not at all blushing.

"Okay, okay. Deal. Now about our teammates."

"What about them?" Keith asks almost instantaneously.

"Woah calm down there cowboy. I just want to know what you think of them. I mean, I've seen all of you play since I've been aware of Allura's plans from the beginning, and I can say I'm pretty impressed with everyone. That Lance fellow could have easily been picked first over all if he weren't so... expressive. And that Pidge fellow looks awfully familiar, kinda like a shorter Matt if you ask me... I'll look into that later. And finally our big man, Hunk. Super nice off the court, a complete monster in-game." Shiro says, taking another sip of his seemingly bottomless coffee. 

Keith raises a brow before answering. "Yeah they're pretty good, but thats to be expected, we were all selected pretty high except Pidge, and that's only because his height really." He considers why Shiro had asked in the first place. "You think we'll make it all the way?"

"After that little test run we had the other day you'd think I'd say no. Not the case. All of your individual play was excellent, but the team play was severely lacking. Sure Lance, Hunk and Pidge played together before, but only two of them ever really shared the floor and their game plan revolved around Lance's miraculous shooting ability and Hunk's power in the paint."

Shiro could have easily been a sports analyst if he didn't have any interest in actually playing the sport with how he's breaking down their issues after one _practice_ match that didn't even last all that long. 

"The biggest issue is between you and Lance, though. Both of you want the ball in your hand at all times, even though neither of you particularly excel in the passing department. It's best you leave the ball handling to Pidge and I. I'll talk to Lance about too." Shiro's eyes look up from the rather large mug he'd been holding for the first time since he'd asked Keith about their teammates. 

"O-okay. Yeah that sounds about right. Sorry Shiro."

"No need to apologize Keith," Shiro clarfies with a smile. He looks at his watch, taking note on how long they'd been in the small café. "We'd best get going now, it's getting pretty late. Besides, you and I have an appointment."

Keith smiles, happy that he and Shiro could settle back into things so easily. "Yeah." was all he could manage.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone will be introduced next chapter, this was mostly a just a reason to have them all on the team, contrived as it may be.


End file.
